by Jenny Penn
Brandon didn’t disappoint her, covering her pussy in wet, suckling kisses that quick evolved into deeper, longer strokes of his tongue as he alternately teased her clit before dipping down to fuck his velvety length into her pulsing sheath. With a speed and mastery she’d come to know and love, he drove her right to the pinnacle of the greatest release she’d ever dared to reach for and flung her body and soul into the devastating explosion of her own climax.
In the rush of rapture that tore through her, she felt her muscles relax for just a second. A mere breath of time, which was all Dylan needed to pound the thick, full length of his cock deep into her ass.
Kristen swallowed a hard breath, but there was no stopping the avalanche of delight that bloomed out of her ass as Dylan began to move, fucking her with slow, loving strokes that had her twisting in delight as her release collapsed into the next one building inside of her, warning her that this time her climax just might be her last.
Surely nothing could ever compare.
That was Kirsten’s last rational thought as Brandon rose back up to his feet and fitted the bulbous head of his cock against the weeping opening of her cunt. Then he was sliding in, making her eyes all but roll back into her head as the pressure inside of her twisted into a tight knot of throbbing need.
Dylan was still pumping himself in and out of her ass as Brandon joined in, setting a rhythm that had Kristen writhing between them. She bucked and flexed her own hips, trying to force them faster to match the frantic beat of the need inside of her while sometimes they delighted in holding back, making her beg and plead and cuss as she used words that would have shamed her mother.
That wasn’t all that would have shamed her mother, but Kristen felt no guilt in being caught between the two men she loved and the two men who loved her. How could anything they did be wrong? If this pleasure was wrong, then Kristen didn’t want to be right. She didn’t want to be taunted either.
Now was not the time, and her two men seemed to understand that as they picked up speed until both Brandon and Dylan were grunting and staining against her. They were pounding into her, driving home one bolt of rapture after another until Kirsten was squealing and shattering into a million pieces as she heard them roar. They came together in one glorious release that left Kristen limp and dazed.
She was dimly aware of being released from the cuffs and then carted off to another bathroom for a shower that had their hands working over her body in a soothing massage before they finally carried her back to bed and tucked her safely between them. Kristen was just drifting off when she heard Dylan murmur a warning to Brandon.
“Kristen is marrying me.”
“In your dreams.”
Kristen smiled, thinking that they were certainly in hers.
Chapter 21
Friday, June 6th
The rest of the week flew past in a delirium of sexual delights Kristen had never believed could exist. Brandon and Dylan kept her up all night and yawning all day. It seemed now that she’d agreed to indulge their need to dominate they couldn’t get enough of her.
The truth be told, she couldn’t get enough of them. Kristen might have blushed whenever she thought about the things she let them do, but she didn’t regret a single one. Just the opposite. She craved more.
Unlike Cybil’s dire warning about things that burned hot burning out, there seemed no end to either her or her men’s need. In fact, it seemed to only grow, which was why she was a little irritated to get a call from her mother informing her that her dad was demanding to see her that night.
It was Friday, and they were supposed to go dancing, but Kristen knew better than to disobey her parents, even if she knew what they wanted to talk about. No doubt her dad was concerned about her dating and her mother distressed that she hadn’t come to church the last Sunday.
Her independence was a difficult notion for them, and Kristen knew that avoiding the lectures and nags coming her way would only entice them to panic even more. So, she informed both Brandon and Dylan that she would be having dinner with her folks and they would have the night off.
That didn’t sit well with either man, and both vowed to wait up for her. Kristen didn’t have the heart to turn either one down, promising that she’d come back to their house when her dinner was over, even though that would mean she hadn’t spent even one night at her cousin’s house.
Not that Gwen seemed to notice. Every time Kristen ran across her cousin, Gwen remained silent and sullen. Kristen figured things were not going her way, especially given the sheriff’s engagement had turned out to be a reality and not a hoax. While Kristen felt bad for Gwen, she couldn’t help but notice that every time she saw the sheriff at lunch, he was smiling now.
The man was clearly happy, and she suspected a Cattleman, given the rumors that Heather hadn’t just taken up with the sheriff but also with his best friend. Kristen couldn’t cast a stone at that rumor, especially not when she knew there were ones circulating about her.
It turned out that the problem with riding a pink scooter was that everybody knew exactly where she was, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed that she had been parking it in Brandon and Dylan’s drive every night. Cybil even asked her about it, but Kristen could only grin. Her relationship wasn’t anybody’s business anyway.
Not even her parents’, but that certainty was tested Friday night.
Kristen knew she was in trouble the moment her mother opened the door. Marissa looked worried. More than that, she looked afraid and her father sat at the head of the table, clearly steaming through the whole meal.
Worse, neither one of them asked her about Dylan, which meant he was likely the source of their agitation. Kristen couldn’t help but wonder if the rumors had reached them down there in Dothan as she followed her father into the living room, leaving her mother to clear the table and cast fearful glances after them.
“Shut the door, young lady, and have a seat,” her father commanded as he settled into his normal seat. “We need to have a talk.”
That didn’t sound good, and Kristen hastened to obey, unnerved by the tone in her father’s voice. It was one she very rarely heard, and one that warned her he was beyond mad. Dylan would have said he was pissed, but Dylan had a potty mouth.
“I received this in the mail the other day,” her father began as Kristen settled down onto the loveseat.
She watched him reach for a large vanilla envelope resting on the side table next to his chair. While she couldn’t guess at what was in it, she couldn’t help but feel the ominous weight of dread as her father passed the envelope to her. Her father’s steady look didn’t help, and she pulled back the flap slowly, certain she didn’t want to know what was inside.
There was no way to avoid it, and the truth turned out to be worse than anything she could have imagined. Kristen felt herself flush and start to tremble as a set pictures fell out into her hands. They were of her and Dylan…and Brandon locked in an intimate embrace on their back porch. There could be no denying what they were doing or how the snapshots had ended, or her father’s reaction to them.
“To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement,” her father began in a strained tone as he continued to glare at her in disapproval.
“I…I…” Kristen didn’t know what to say. What was she supposed to say? Her father didn’t suffer from that dilemma, and his command came instantly.
“You’ll be moving home, obviously.”
Kristen just gaped at him. Move home? She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t go back to living her life in a shell. She had dreams. She had plans.
“And never seeing either one of those men again,” her father continued on, seeming completely oblivious to Kristen’s internal battle.
It was instinctive to obey her father, but everything he said had her shaking with a rush of pure panic. Never see Dylan and Brandon again? She couldn’t do that. She loved them. She wanted to build a life with them. She’d never give them up. She couldn’t.
“God wi
lling, Mr. O’Leary will be willing to accept you as you are now and⎯”
“Accept me?” That insult snapped Kristen out of her stupor, and she found herself instinctively puckering up. “I don’t need Mr. O’Leary to accept me. I don’t accept him.”
“Now, young lady⎯”
“And I’m not moving home.” Kristen rose up with that proclamation, feeling as if she were shedding a set of shackles that had weighed her down for far too long. “I’m sorry you are disappointed, Dad, but this is my life. I have to live it my way.”
“How dare you.” Her father rose up slowly, his face flushed with his outrage. “Your mother and I have provided for you for twenty-two years, and this is the respect you show us? The gratitude?”
“I am grateful,” Kristen insisted, clutching the photos to her breasts as she held on to them as tightly as she wanted to hold Dylan and Brandon. She wished they were there to give her strength, but she refused to buckle without them.
“I’m my own woman,” Kristen said aloud, needing to hear it almost as much as her father did. “And my personal business is mine. Now, I love you, Dad, but I can’t live my life for you. I have to live it for me.”
With that, Kristen lifted her chin and headed for the door. This conversation was over. Permanently.
“You walk out that door, young lady, don’t you think you can walk back through it,” her father warned her, making Kristen’s heart break. She paused to look back at him.
“You know my door is always open,” she assured him softly and then fled.
She flew past her mother and made it out of the house before she started crying. Kristen didn’t let those tears stop her, though. Neither would she allow the shaking to keep her from moving forward. She fumbled with her helmet, securing the envelope with the pictures in her purse before mounting her scooter and heading back for home.
Home, where Dylan and Brandon were. She needed them now more than she ever had before. She needed their strength and assurance that she had chosen wisely. That struck her hard as she putted back down the main highway toward Pittsview, leaving her to wonder if she’d simply replaced her father’s authority with theirs, but then Kristen remembered all the little ways they catered to her and gave her the freedom to do as she wanted and knew that their relationship was something more. Something special.
Something somebody had tried to destroy.
Somebody who knew how her parents would react, and there was only one person Kristen could think of who knew all of that⎯Gwen. That bitch. After all the times Kristen had stood up for her, she couldn’t believe her cousin would betray her like that. She needed proof, needed to confront Gwen and hear it from her cousin’s lips why she’d do something like this.
Determined to get that answer, Kristen aimed her scooter for Gwen’s place, only she wasn’t there by the time Kristen arrived. It was dark out, and she knew Gwen probably wouldn’t be back for hours. She also knew Dylan and Brandon were probably growing anxious, but Kristen didn’t pass by Gwen’s dark house and keep on going. Instead, she pulled into the driveway, intent on tearing Gwen’s house apart until she found the proof she was looking for.
It didn’t take her long, and she certainly didn’t have to go through the whole house. Kristen stumbled into a nightmare within five seconds of starting her search. She began, as seemed appropriate, in Gwen’s den and her precious desk. Two drawers down, she found the files that proved Gwen was capable of anything.
Kristen stared at the pictures of her cousin in all sorts of intimate poses and embraces with more men than Kristen had ever realized. There were at least twenty of them, and she recognized more than one face. There was a journal stored with the files, and as Kristen flipped through the pages, everything just clicked and she knew what she was looking at.
Her cousin’s blackmail ledger and the evidence she was using to force her subjects to pay.
It was horrible, and very real. What was she supposed to do now? Turn her cousin in? She couldn’t do that. Even after what Gwen had done to her, she couldn’t destroy Gwen’s whole life or that of her marks. She couldn’t do that, but neither could she stay there any longer.
Tucking everything back into the desk drawer, Kristen told herself it wasn’t any of her business, but those men weren’t exactly innocent victims either. They were married men, respected pillars of the community, many elected to office. They didn’t deserve her sympathy, and she didn’t deserve to carry this weight.
The more Kristen thought about it, the more she came to realize that there was only one solution to her problem. She had to walk away from this situation. That was just what she did. She walked slowly down the hall to her borrowed bedroom and began packing everything up. She didn’t have much, and it didn’t take long, but she still couldn’t cart it all up to Brandon and Dylan’s on her scooter.
Kristen was left with no recourse but to call them and ask for help. She didn’t doubt for a single moment that they would come, but they arrived faster than she’d thought, and she was still lugging suitcases and bags out onto the porch as both men jumped out of Dylan’s truck and came rushing toward her.
“What is all this?” Dylan frowned, pulling to a stop as Brandon wove his way around her luggage to swoop her up in his arms.
“It’s okay, beautiful,” he murmured, crushing her in a bear hug as he seemed to instinctively know that something was very wrong. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”
Kristen knew that was true, but his words still helped her believe in that truth. Pulling back, she met his gaze with her own, unable to mask her worry as she finally greeted him.
“My parents know about us.” Kristen didn’t have the heart to tell them what Gwen had done and didn’t think it necessary.
“Oh, princess.” Dylan sighed and looked pointedly at her luggage. “Please tell me you didn’t agree to move back in with them.”
“No.” Kristen hesitated, for the first time feeling a little awkward about her plan, but that didn’t stop her from pushing through. “I was thinking I’d move in with you two.”
“Is that right, beautiful?” Brandon cocked a brow, his amusement betrayed by the twitch of his lips. “Are you sure you are ready to make that kind of step?”
“I’m sure I love you, and I’ve been spending every night with you…so…you going to help me move or not?”
“Of course, princess,” Dylan instantly assured her. “All you had to do was ask.”
Epilogue
Sunday, July 20th
Kristen fell silent as it dawned on her that she might have revealed too much, but Wanda simply patted her hand and smiled.
“It sounds to me like you made the right choice.”
“I don’t know.” Kristen sighed, not doubting that she’d made the best decision ever when she’d decided to move in with Brandon and Dylan but unable to escape the guilt at having abandoned her cousin. “There was a break-in a few days later, and then Gwen was dead.”
“And you feel bad because she died while you were still angry with her,” Wanda concluded, amazing Kristen with her perception. Even Dylan and Brandon hadn’t figured out the secret she’d been harboring.
“I should have tried to help her more,” Kristen whispered, thinking of all the things she could have done but hadn’t.
“She probably wouldn’t have let you.” Wanda smiled slightly, a sad twist of the lips that held way too much sorrow for her emotions to have only been touched by Gwen.
This was a woman who knew about those poor souls who lost their ways. Kristen had a feeling Wanda knew how to guide them back to the right path. If only Gwen had had that chance. The thing Gwen had a chance at now was justice, not that it would do her any good.
“Did you tell Dylan or Brandon any of this?” Wanda drew her attention back to the moment, back to the one subject that ate at her. Kristen had no choice but to slowly shake her head.
“No. I…I didn’t want them to do anything to Gwen⎯”
“Like arrest her?
” Wanda cut in, taking an accurate guess at Kristen’s motives.
“Yes,” Kristen admitted with a slow nod. “After she passed, I was afraid that…”
“Somebody might think you were guilty because of the pictures she sent your parents?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever wonder if maybe somebody else sent those pictures?” Wanda pressed, causing Kristen to frown.
She never really had. “Who would have? Why?”
“I don’t know.” Wanda shrugged. “Just a thought, and here’s another one, you better tell those boys of yours what you know before they find out you know it some other way.”
Kristen knew she was right, had known what she had to do for weeks now. It was just cowardice that had made her hesitate. Things were going so well between them, but more than that, she just didn’t want everybody to think of Gwen as a blackmailer…even though she was one.
“Did you see your parents at the funeral?” Wanda asked softly, touching on a subject Kristen couldn’t help but cringe away from.
“My parents didn’t attend the funeral,” Kristen stated firmly. “They didn’t approve of Gwen’s life.”
They didn’t approve of her either. They weren’t technically speaking to Kristen, but her mother was writing letters. She knew eventually her mother would come to accept the situation. Her father, she feared, never would.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Wanda paused as somebody passed to close to their table before she continued on in a softer voice. “And I want you to know that you have helped me, and I’m going to help find the bastard that hurt your cousin. She will have her justice.”
Kristen gazed over at the other woman, sensing her determination and nodded. “I don’t doubt she will, and I’m glad I could have helped. If you need anything more⎯”
“I know where to find you.” Wanda nodded.