I have to figure out how to do this; she bit her lip as she formulated her plan. I sure as hell don’t want to tell anyone how I got my information. She also didn’t feel right about calling things off with the band either. This is my life; God damn it! Why the fuck can’t I live it in peace? By the time she reached the house and let herself in the back gate, she knew she wasn’t going to say anything to anyone.
Climbing up to the window she had exited from only a few hours before, she slid the pane up quietly. Poking her head inside, she could see the bed still flat, and undisturbed. Good, there’s a solid chance I wasn’t missed. Dropping her pack into a corner of the closet, she grabbed the blankets on the bed, dragging them about and creating a disheveled look to the place.
Moving into the bathroom, she stripped down, stepping into the shower for the second time, and pushing her dark curls beneath the stream, none too soon. Hearing the bathroom door close loudly, she turned to see her husband peeking around the curtain.
“You ok?” his brown eyes filled with concern.
“Yeah, I think so. I got sick to my stomach. Threw up everything we ate today,” she lied smoothly, adding a bit of tremor to the hand she reached out to him with for effect.
Catching the trembling fingers, he rubbed them firmly before he kissed them. “Do I need to change the sheets?” he asked softly, his face still drawn in lines of worry.
“You might check them,” she nodded her agreement, “Think I made it, but just in case.” She gave him a weak smile, thankful he had no clue what she had been about for the night.
Leaving her, Michael made his way out to the pile of bedding and began to pull at the blankets, inspecting them carefully. Finding nothing out of place, he put them back on the bed, smoothing them down as his mind considered his wife’s sudden illness, suspecting food poisoning as the culprit.
Tori exited the small room a short time later, wearing nothing but a bath sheet. Finding him still awake, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, she caught her breath at the sight of his hair covered chest. Slithering in from her side, she moved all the way across, spooning her naked body up against his, on fire for the second time that night. Her fingers finding their way into the thick curls that obscured her name, she sighed quietly.
His arm sliding around her, he pushed his face against her damp hair in the dim glow of the small lamp. “Feel better?” he whispered, his soft voice meant to comfort.
“Yeah, actually a lot better,” she replied smoothly and dug her hand down below the edge of the sheet in search of his manhood. Her action surprised him, and he shifted as if he were going to push her away. She lifted her face, grasping with her left hand as he swelled at her touch. Using her right hand to hold him in place, she pressed her lips against his, the coarseness giving away her sense of urgency.
Having gotten him to full attention, she wasted no time moving to straddle him, pinning him beneath her and taking him into her dripping folds. Pushing against him roughly, she proceeded to fuck him as heavily as she could muster, his hands grasping and holding her, a perplexed expression dancing on his features. Allowing her to drive her body against his for several minutes, her loud grunts finally got the better of him, and he grabbed her, forcing her to hold still.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” his eyes narrowed, completely confused by the abrupt shift from sick to horny as hell.
“I… uh… dunno,” she pushed her hair out of her eyes, “I’m… you know.” Her jaw dropped slightly, “What? I can’t be in control once in a while?”
He stared at her, evaluating her words, “Sure, you can be in control. But this is damn sure not like you. Especially considering you were sick all fucking day and puked your guts up less than an hour ago.”
Overtaken by a wave of rage, Tori snapped, “So what? I was sick, and I feel better. And, I wanna fuck. I mean, like pound the shit out of me fuck. But I know you’re not really into that shit, so I gotta do it myself.” Her palm pressing against his chest, she pushed herself up to adjust her angle, “You don’t mind, do you?” she demanded as she slapped against him once more.
Rocking his jaw, he allowed her to satisfy herself against him, her behavior still out of line with his understanding of the situation. When she had finished with him, she rolled over and turned her back, staring at the window she had slipped through only a short time before. Extending a muscular arm, he cut off the light with a crisp snap, “You’re welcome,” not at all pleased by the turn of events and wondering if one of the other men in the house had anything to do with it.
Locked Up
The following morning, Tori tried to carry on, business as usual, hitting the gym early and pushing herself to the limit. The atmosphere felt far from relaxed, once again forced to share the space with her husband and two former lovers at the same time. Finishing up her workout, she leaned against the wall to drink water and watch the men as they moved about the room.
She noticed that there seemed to be some kind of silent competition going on between the younger two. Brett appeared to be ignoring them, lost in his routine and content to keep to his norm. Michael and Enrique, on the other hand, were obviously at war.
Watching the pair, she could see them alternating pushups and sit-ups, sets that increased by one each time they switched. It would normally be an activity with a set number of rounds or length of time for completion. After fifteen minutes, she felt confident that neither one wanted to be the first to stop, so the contest continued.
Growing concerned, she made her way over to the men, placing her hand on a rack to lean on. “How much longer are you going to be at this?” she posed the question with a hint of animosity.
Cutting his eyes over at her, Michael focused on keeping his count to the end of the set before replying, “I guess I could be done. We have plans for the day, love?”
Enrique pulled up as well, “If you gos anywhere, make sures you let us know. We can’t looks after you if you don’t.”
Her eyes darting between them, she grunted at their childish behavior, “I guess we’ll see what comes after breakfast.” Turning her back, she exited the gym to have her shower in private, essentially leaving them to work out their differences amongst themselves. She was tired of men who fought over her, and unwilling to put up with it again.
Arriving in the kitchen a short time later, she discovered Brian already there, “Wow, you’re up early! What gives?”
“I dunno,” he grinned broadly, “I woke up this morning with a song in my head. One I can’t ignore. You wanna hit the studio with me; see what we can make of it?”
Tori nodded, understanding the desire to deal with an idea when it cried to be heard. Besides, it would make a nice distraction from the silent war that had been taking place between the other members of the household. Hastily having a quick meal, the pair passed Michael as he entered the room, and she gave him a rundown on their plans.
Locking his jaw, he gave her a shrug, “No worries, baby girl. I may come and hang out with you for a bit if you don’t mind.” His hint of a pout completely adorable, it gave him completely away.
“Sure, anything you like,” she replied with a peck on his cheek. He had not been much for watching the band work before the arrival of her friends, but things were in motion within the house, and she could feel the changes moving slowly within the dynamics of their group.
Taking up their instruments inside their sanctuary, the siblings put their hearts into laying out the new melody. She felt quite taken with the lyrics that her brother had pieced together, and they spent the better part of the day putting with them the sound that really brought them to life.
Barely taking a break to eat, they were completely finished with the song as dinner approached, and her brother announced that they needed to set it aside and let it congeal, “Then we can come back to it in a few days and see what we think,” he grinned at their accomplishment.
“Yeah,” Tori agreed, “I have to admit, I like it a lot.”
/> “Me too,” he agreed. “But it’s time for me to go. I have a date tonight,” he gave her a wink as he shared the news.
Tori chuckled, well aware that for her bandmates, the word date would be synonymous with conquest, and she would not be seeing him again until sometime the next day if all went well. Leaving him to his recreation, she made her way down the hall to discover the other three members of the household were in the lounge, taking turns shooting pool and keeping tally of the games on a napkin.
“Mind if I join you?” she queried, the last time she and her husband had played tickling the back of her mind.
“Not at all,” Enrique spoke for the group, “We ordered sandwiches from Stella if you wanna go tells her what you want. It’ll be your turn when you gets back.”
Tori hummed softly to herself as she made her way to the kitchen to do precisely that, still somewhat amazed that her husband would be getting along so well with the other two men. She hated to think of her mate as deceitful; but given his jealous tendencies in the past, she could hardly imagine his behavior as anything else. His keeping the battle below the surface was a definite sign that he was up to something, no doubt.
Returning to the party a short time later, she selected her cue and found the chalk, “What’re we playing for?” she asked casually.
“Hundred a game,” Brett spoke up, leaning his stick against the bar to slide onto a stool. “We’ll settle up at the end o’ the night,” he grinned at her sheepishly, indicating the board that revealed he was not the most skilled player in the room.
“Your rack,” Enrique called to her. “And we’re playing nine ball,” he added smoothly.
“Nice,” she replied, pulling out the spheres and arranging them into a diamond. “You know, we could be partners.”
“Naw, we should stick with this,” he grinned at her, obviously enjoying the double meaning, whether she had intended it or not.
“Ok,” she removed the plastic form and stepped away, “I’m easy.”
The last two words caused an awkward silence, as her opponent shot her a funny look before he revealed a slow smile, “You says it, baby girl.” Giving a few practice swings, he cracked the rack and ran the table, without giving her a turn at the balls.
Glaring at him, her forehead crinkled, “You guys have spent way too much time playing this game, I think.”
Brett snorted a laugh, and Enrique joined in, recalling that the girl had spent far more time laying across pool tables than she had actually playing on them. Her eyes darting between the two men, she returned her cue to the rack and accepted her plate from the housekeeper; “It’s all good. I was hungry anyways.”
Enjoying the meal, she ate her meat, cheese and crackers wearing a small pout. During Michael’s turn, he caught a lucky break. Actually able to have a shot at the balls, he put Enrique out with a devilish grin of satisfaction. “Brett, old man, you ready for another go?”
Brett nodded as he wiped at his face, “Yeah, I’m no quitter, even if I am five-hundred in th’ hole,” and he laughed to emphasize the point.
Enrique took the chair next to Tori, his leg brushing along hers as he slid into his seat.
She stiffened slightly at the rush of excitement the contact produced. Keenly aware the action had been on purpose, she shifted her gaze to catch him watching her. She swallowed her bite, their eyes locked, and his hand found her leg beneath the wooden surface. “What’re you doing?” she demanded quietly, trying to avoid being overheard.
He continued to sneer, giving her a small shrug as the digits pushed over to finger her folds of flesh through their covering, “Nothin’,” before he removed the appendage to grasp his dinner with both hands.
Michael watched the two of them, his thoughts churning; he could see the hand return to her leg a short time later. Dumbass, don’t he know I can see him fondling her from this angle? The other man either didn’t know or didn’t care, and his hand moved up and down the denim, squeezing and massaging her as they spoke to one another.
The distraction had been enough to throw off his game, and Brett won his first match of the night with a loud, gratified whoop, “Haha, no skunk for me!”
Taking the seat opposite his wife, next to the man who groped her, “You’re up, love.”
Tori finished her last few bites and moved to rack the balls for the second time. “Well, you look pretty pleased,” she teased Brett fondly, her pulse thumping in her neck at the havoc Enrique had put her in with his wandering fingers.
“Yup,” he replied. “As long as I win one, I’m good.”
Leaning over to situate the spheres, her rear end stuck out slightly, pointing at the two men seated at the table behind her. Michael shifted his gaze to see the other man leering at his bride without the slightest effort to disguise his desire. Puckering his lips, he recalled their conversation only a couple of days prior, when Enrique had boasted he would be more than happy to fuck her, “if she’s willing” he had said; he felt pretty confident his wife would be willing.
Eating his meal hurriedly, he excused himself before the game had been completed, “Listen, guys; I’m not feeling real well, think I’ll turn in.” Not waiting for a reply, he left the three of them staring after him, his mind racing, certain she would choose to remain below.
Arriving at their room, he glanced calmly behind him to discover that he had been correct in his deduction. Yeah, I knew his being here was going to be trouble. Making his way inside, Michael removed his shirt and pants, stretching out on their king sized bed to stare at the ceiling.
I obviously can’t keep her locked up; he ran his hand through the hair on his chest. Images of his wife, naked and alone with the dark haired man tore at him. You know the odds are good they will have their fling; he rationalized with himself, what you have to do is figure out how to win in the end. Or at least… not lose it all.
Back in the lounge, Enrique finished his meal and sidled up to the dark haired beauty, “Hey, baby girl; why don’t you lets me teach you a little bit?”
She stared at him; wide-eyed surprise at what he might be getting at. “Teach me what?” she stammered, her mind still not fully on the game.
“How to play,” he indicated the table with an open palm. “Here,” he looped an arm around her waist to guide her into position. “Like this.”
Brett stepped back from the table, deciding to enjoy his dinner and watch the show. He grew curious if he would get a turn after Enrique had finished with the girl, provided the younger man could get her clothes off now that they were ‘alone.’
“Relax, baby girl; I’m not gonna hurts you,” Enrique breathed in her ear, his body pressed against her from behind as he guided her.
“I know,” she exhaled loudly. “It’s been a long time since anyone but Michael touched me, that’s all.” Oh my God, what the hell am I doing? His hand felt warm through the cotton of her shirt, and she could feel her brain go fuzzy at the thought of removing the material.
“We’re playing pool,” he teased quietly. “Don’t grip it so tightly. That’s it, lets it slide smooth. That’s better.”
Taking her through a few shots from different positions and angles, she could easily see that his proximity had the opposite effect, and she actually had gotten worse. “You’re distracting me, baby. Why don’t you go sit and watch from over there?” she indicated a stool next to the bar with the cue.
“Cause, I likes it better over here,” he ran his hand across her ribs as she turned to face him, his fingers tickling her breast and causing the nipple to stand out in a point. “You missed me, didn’ you…”
Catching his fingers, she held them still, not bothering to push them away. Cutting her eyes over at the older man, she could see him making quite a show of eating and ignoring their foreplay. She dropped into Spanish, keeping her voice low, “It doesn’t matter, even if I did. You know Michael and I are married. Why’re you putting your hands on me?”
“Cause you likes it,” he grinned broadly, �
�Besides, your ol’ man went to bed and left you here alone with me, so’s I don’t figure he cares… if you get what I means.”
Instantly, she could feel the rage and shoved him away from her, “The fuck if he doesn’t care. He trusts me, so back the hell off or get the fuck out!” Clutching her cue, she moved around the table and took another shot while the two men exchanged glances.
“Sorry,” he stammered, “That was outta line. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”
“Yeah, see that you do,” she continued with the game, her mind still clouded by the confusion that his touch had produced.
Taking a few shots himself, Enrique sank two balls, then missed the third. Leaning over to make hers, Tori cast a quick glance to find him peering down her shirt, her pink rose glaringly obvious.
The distraction more than enough, the cue ball didn’t even make contact with her target, and he laughed, “I’m tellin’ you, I could help you.”
Straightening slowly, she glanced at Brett to find that he studied her calmly, and it occurred to her that she could fuck the both of them if she wanted to. The idea caused her great concern, and she chastised herself bitterly, considering that a good wife doesn’t want to fuck other men. She could see that a good wife only has eyes for her husband, and she thought about her mate’s question of her being a cold hearted bitch.
The idea of having either of them placing their hands upon her excited her, and she looked back at Enrique with a slight pout on her lips, “I don’t need that kind of help. In fact, I think it’s time I went to bed.” Laying her cue stick on the table, she avoided moving too closely to either of them as she slipped out the door and bolted for the stairs.
A New Life Series - Finisher Set Page 42