Barrel of Monkeys [Drunk Monkeys 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tymber Dalton

  He grinned up at her. “Oh, baby, you are perfect.”

  Echo rolled the condom over his cock. He grabbed the lube and knelt behind her. Pushing her down onto Omega with a hand between her shoulder blades, he said, “Okay, I’ll go slow.”

  Omega grabbed her ass cheeks again, spreading them as he kissed her. She closed her eyes and savored this, hoping this wasn’t the last bit of pleasure she’d ever have in her life.

  If it was, at least she’d make it count.

  Echo lubed his condom-clad cock. Then, the thick, hard knob pressed against her ass, seeking entrance.

  She whined a little, her body motionless as he slowly worked it inside her tight ring of muscle.

  “I know, baby. I wish we had a vibrator. We’d have it pressed against your clit and feeling really good before you know it. I’ll have it in you in a minute.” He pressed forward, withdrew a little, then repeated the motion. With each forward bit of progress he gained a little ground, until, eventually, his cock was tightly fisted all the way to the root inside her ass.

  “Okay,” he gasped. “Fuck, baby, you have no idea how good you feel.” He pulled her up and reached around her, finding her clit with his fingers.

  Omega cupped her breasts in his hands and squeezed them, playing with her nipples. “Just sit there and give us one like this,” Omega told her. “Look at me.”

  She forced her gaze to focus on his handsome face, that sexy smile he had, his gorgeous eyes. “You are going to sit there, filled with cock, until you come for us. So quit being stubborn and get that sweet clit of yours in the game. You can’t lie to us and say you don’t have at least one more in you. We can feel you do.”

  The way they took charge melted her. Dave had never done that in bed. At the time she thought he was conscientious.

  Now she realized it was more wishy-washy.

  These men knew what they wanted, knew what they wanted from her, and wouldn’t settle for less.

  “Come on, baby,” Echo murmured in her ear. “I can feel how bad you want it. We both can.”

  She slowly started rocking on their cocks, her gaze fixed on Omega’s, one arm hooked behind her around Echo’s neck.

  “That’s it,” Echo said. “You found your sweet spot, didn’t you?”

  Oh, yes, she had. His fingers were perfectly rolling her clit back and forth, and with his cock pressing Omega’s against her G-spot, and Omega’s fingers pinching her nipples and adding even more pleasure to it, it wasn’t long before she felt one more release starting to gain speed.

  “There you go, baby,” Omega said. “Just ride it on through. All the way. Throw that pretty head of yours back and let us hear how good it is.

  She did. With her head resting against Echo’s shoulder, she closed her eyes and let out a long, moaning cry as the orgasm swelled and burst inside her. Then she was back down on top of Omega, both men fucking her, hard and fast and adding their releases to hers.

  Finally, a moment later, they were lying tangled on their sides on the blanket, quiet, catching their breaths as the warm California breeze swept over them and down the hill, into the valley.

  Echo kissed the back of her neck before slowly, carefully withdrawing. She winced.

  “You okay?” Omega asked.

  “Sore in the good ways,” she said.

  Echo grabbed the wipes, cleaned up himself and her, and then returned to cuddle behind her. “Yeah, you will be, in the morning,” he said.

  “Hopefully,” she quietly added.

  Omega tenderly kissed her. “Have faith.”

  Echo nibbled on the back of her shoulder. “Lots of faith.”

  * * * *

  Gia couldn’t even lie there and bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She heard her radio go off inside the unit, Sharon’s voice calling out to her. “Base to Chief Quick. Over.”

  Dammit. With a sigh, she untangled herself from the men and walked naked over to the driver’s side door and reached in, grabbing the mic.

  “Unit 1 to base. Over.”

  “Gia, Papa needs to talk to you.”

  Then, the man’s voice sounded over the radio. “You three need to return to base now.”

  She guessed they were beyond radio protocols. “Why? I thought we had to wait it out?”

  “Q says negatory. He wants to draw some blood from you three.”

  Now Omega and Echo were standing and walking over to listen. She tried not to be distracted by their naked bodies.

  “Why does he want to do that?” she asked.

  “Because he thinks he has a new test. So please return now. Over and out.”

  She tossed the mic onto the seat and turned to them. “Well?”

  Omega shrugged. “If it means we don’t have to wait the full ten hours, I’m all for it.”

  They pulled their clothes on. Before they climbed back into the SUV, the men sandwiched her between them again. She wouldn’t deny it felt really good to have their bodies bookending her like that.

  Supporting her.

  She’d been independent all her life, even while married. Hell, Dave hadn’t been much of a partner in that regard, when she looked back on it with a brutally honest eye.

  These men felt nothing like what her relationship with Dave had felt like. They felt open. Honest.

  Genuine.

  She was facing Omega. “No matter what happens,” he said, “the three of us, together. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  When he leaned in and kissed her, she wanted to chuck all her responsibilities and say fuck Santa Clarita.

  Hell, if Baynes could do it, why couldn’t she? Why did she have to remain obligated to holding the gates of hell closed against the impending onslaught when no one else seemed to give a damn?

  Echo kissed the back of her neck. “All for one, and all…that…jazz.” He said the last three words in a sing-songy kind of voice.

  “You break into a show tune, I’ll knee you in the nuts.”

  “Wow. That’s a drastic hating on the arts right there, babe.”

  She tipped her head back so she could look into his eyes. Despite his wounded tone, Echo wore a playful smile.

  “You want artsy-fartsy, I’m the wrong girl, sorry. I might be fun-sized, but I’ve had little time for relaxation lately.”

  “Oh, you’re fun-sized, all right,” Echo said, grinding the front of his jeans against her well-fucked ass.

  “We can discuss this later,” Omega said. “Once we get back to the station and let Q poke us.”

  Gia and Echo both snorted.

  “What?” Omega asked.

  “You said ‘poke’,” Echo snickered.

  “Grow up.” His tone belied his words. “This is exactly why I made sergeant before you, bud.”

  “You’re going to feel like a real asshole for saying that if we test positive and they decide to off us.” Echo innocently blinked at him.

  “Do you two always banter like this?” Gia asked.

  “Yep,” they said.

  She shook her head as she untangled herself from between them. “Then I guess I’d better get used to it.”

  “Yep,” they repeated as they followed her into the SUV.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Reverend Hannibal Silo, head of the Church of the Rising Sunset, forced himself to keep his smile benign, kind.

  Gentlemanly.

  He damn sure didn’t want to burst out in maniacally gleeful giggles.

  That might creep people out.

  The room of twenty young women and their parents made maintaining his composure difficult. While a few of the prospects weren’t quite as fetching as their pictures from the Church of the Rising Sunset Youth Corps’ files had portrayed, he found many of them were even…

  Hotter.

  All of them were between the ages of just shy of eighteen and no older than nineteen. The ones who were not quite yet eighteen would be so within the month.

  He wanted new wives, but he was no pedophile.

>   Today he was lunching at the St. Louis stronghold with these hand-selected young women and their families as a way to narrow his choices down to five finalists. The candidates had been told they were selected for their achievements as part of the Youth Corps.

  They didn’t know they were auditioning to be the next Mrs. Reverend Hannibal Silo.

  Well, that was not on paper, of course. But they’d been raised as active members of the church’s Youth Corps. It was drilled into them that reproducing—after marriage, of course—was a sacred duty for any young person, raising a new batch of children who could go forth and do God’s work.

  That had been Jerald’s idea as well. All the girls were eager to become mothers.

  It was also another prerequisite of the selection process, even though they didn’t realize it at the time. The questionnaires that the girls had filled out as part of their Youth Corps experience revealed whether or not they truly wanted to be parents. Any of them could have easily lied and said yes, but there were other questions, such as how much and in what ways they valued family, that also helped weed out any who might just be saying what they thought the church wanted to hear.

  It was time he start spreading his seed, as the country began descending into an anarchy which he knew only his leadership could pull them out of. He would have a wife at each of the fifteen compounds throughout the country, positioned strategically so that the people he’d safely ensconced in them would be protected from Kite and able to step up and take over the reins of their government once it was safe. Through elections, he would become president.

  And then he could make America the world’s powerhouse. By the time he was ready to settle into retirement in twenty years or so, there would be a new generation, his generation, young and strong and eager to take up the reins of the legacy he was building for them now.

  The only key piece missing was obtaining a Kite vaccine so he could control its distribution. He was sure the damned Drunk Monkeys were in the LA area, but unfortunately that region was now a wasteland.

  Although he wouldn’t shed any tears over it. The events there only helped cover up their actions at a facility they’d secretly set up to infect people with Kite.

  It seemed, however, that their volunteers had failed in their duties. Silo’s contacts at the CDC weren’t indicating any unusual spikes in Kite infections in any of the areas where they’d sent volunteers.

  Today’s luncheon was the first of many he’d attend daily over the next two weeks. He’d left Mary at home, with the day and night nurses being paid extra to stay with her nonstop.

  During part of this junket, he would swing through DC and have a private sit-down with President Kennedy.

  She owed him that much.

  He needed her to drag General Joseph Arliss in, kicking and screaming if necessary, and order him to hand over the Drunk Monkeys and the scientists they were now protecting. Their information, which frustratingly lagged behind current events by several days, indicated they had at least two, possibly three, of the scientists from The List.

  He wanted those damn doctors.

  And Hannibal Silo was not a man used to being refused anything he wanted.

  He certainly wouldn’t allow himself to be stymied at this stage of his plans. And if President Kennedy thought he would, she had another thing coming.

  He held out his hands in a welcoming gesture. “Ladies and gentlemen, and our young representatives of our Youth Corps, welcome. Thank you for attending today.” He smiled. “I’m looking very forward to talking personally with each and every one of you. Getting to know you.”

  Intimately.

  He mentally giggled as his gaze settled on one particularly fetching, blushing blonde who’d already caught his eye in a very favorable way.

  You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was sunset when they returned to the station, hanging back outside the garage until Q and Clara emerged, dressed in full protective gear.

  “How do you three feel?” Q asked as Clara prepared to draw blood from them.

  “Other than disgusted by the world at large,” Gia said, “no worse than usual.”

  “You really think you have a new blood test?” Echo asked them.

  Q nodded. “I believe so.” He reached up a gloved hand and made a motion like he was going to shove his glasses up his nose, but his finger bumped up against the protective clear face panel in the hood over his face. He made a few scrunched, odd grimaces Gia realized was him trying to scoot his glasses up a little.

  “In all honesty,” Q said, “I believe it is unlikely you contracted Kite from your contact. There is the possibility blood spatter might have aerosolized and been breathed in, but I doubt it.”

  Clara took the samples and hurried inside with them, leaving Q behind to talk. “The test should only take a moment. We have calibrated a DNA sequencer that we liberated from a lab in the medical center this morning to run these tests for us.”

  “Wait, what?” She looked at Omega and Echo. “What the hell happened while I was asleep this morning?”

  Omega shrugged.

  She really wished he wouldn’t do that. That sexy gesture was her Kryptonite.

  “No one wanted to bother you,” he said. “Me, Tango, Clara, and a couple of others paid a visit to the medical center this morning. It was deserted. Wasn’t like anyone was complaining we were there.”

  “So I take it you all did a little acquisitioning while you were there?”

  He smiled. “I am the unit’s quartermaster. Sort of my job description.”

  A few minutes later, Clara returned, the hood of her protective suit off, a smile on her face, and she flashed them a thumbs-up.

  Q removed his hood and immediately shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Shall we go inside?”

  “That’s it?” Echo asked. “We’re good? No hourly sticks?”

  “I would like to do another stick test in two hours,” he said, “and draw more blood. But I sincerely doubt you three are infected.”

  “Lucky bastards,” Tango called from the garage doorway. “Should make you wait naked, outside, in the farking rain.”

  He wore a smile, and from his tone Gia guessed there was a story. “Context?”

  “He was exposed in Australia,” Echo said. “We told you that story.”

  “Ah. Okay.”

  Papa met them as they were parking the SUV and rolling the garage door down behind them. “Welcome back,” he said. “My plan is for us to leave tomorrow morning, shortly after sunrise. Victor thinks he’s got enough fuel in the bird he can scout the road north across the mountains and back. Hopefully find us a good hiding spot for tomorrow night before we hit Bakersfield. We’ll let everyone get a good night’s sleep, plenty of rack time, and hit the road refreshed and ready to roll.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She headed inside to her office, Omega and Echo following her. She needed to repack all her gear and get it loaded into her official SUV. But first, she wanted to see if there was anything else she could do to help out her officers. Maybe fix payroll somehow to keep it going.

  While online, for the hell of it, she logged in to the traffic camera system again. She’d expected to see long lines of taillights from cars streaming into Barstow, but no, nothing.

  Frowning, she pulled up another view. Then she switched over to infrared.

  Nothing. Oh, the cameras were working and still transmitting, but the road was deserted. It looked like the National Guard had shut down the 15 between Victorville and Barstow.

  What the hell?

  With growing unease, she checked for general system alerts. There were plenty on local levels, mostly about stations no longer online, but one passed along by someone claiming to be from CHP’s emergency management department puzzled her. The timestamp was only two hours old.

  By order of the military, I-15 and other secondary roads between Victorville and Barstow are closed in both
directions to all civilian traffic from dusk to dawn, effective immediately. Only military, law enforcement, or approved civilian relief agencies may be driving during the prohibited times.

  Ooookaay. That made zero sense to her. Just like creating a civilian refugee camp in Barstow had never been part of their disaster drills, neither had this. The Mojave Freeway between those two points was, for the most part, flat and easy to drive. If anything, they might want people on it at night instead of during the day, due to cooler temps at night. Less likely for vehicles to overheat.

  Then again, they aren’t paying me to know what the hell they’re doing. Not in my job description.

  She wondered if she needed to write up a formal resignation letter for herself.

  Fuck it. She’d leave her own pay set to keep going, too. Screw it. She gave herself a raise while she was at it.

  Not like she’d ever collect a dime from them in pension at this point. She might as well get as much as she could. She used a national bank chain, so she knew she could access her account from anywhere that was still up and running. Some of her fellow officers might not be as lucky.

  Again, not my problem.

  The thought struck her again that she wasn’t sure she liked how hardened she’d become. Especially to this situation.

  Shouldn’t it be affecting me more than it is?

  Or maybe this was how the results chose to manifest themselves in her brain.

  Deciding she didn’t want to think about that, she finished packing her shit and got some chow in her. Before she knew it, it was close to midnight.

  Papa walked in and found her in the lobby, going over some last things with Sharon.

  “Why are you still up?” he asked.

  “I know. I should be heading to bed soon. Why are you still up?”

  He smiled. “Thought I’d finally grab a shower while the grabbin’s good.”

  “Smart man.” She laughed. “I feel as useless as a CHP on the 15 right now.”

  He frowned, shouldering his towel. “Why?”

  “Damnedest thing, they closed the roads between Victorville and Barstow from dusk till dawn.”