by JA Huss
Logan stays right where he is. About a foot away. Looking down at me with some emotion I don’t understand in his eyes.
He’s thinking about something. Me for sure. But something else too.
AJ doesn’t stay still. He wraps his arms around my waist, his fingers reaching between my legs where his cock was just a couple minutes ago. His head dips into my neck and he says, “Ready for more?”
And even though I could care less about more sex at this point, I am ready for more.
More of them. That’s all. Just more of them.
More touching. More soft moans and wild groans.
More connection.
So I say… “Yes.”
Logan closes that small distance between us as soon as the soft, low word leaves my mouth. He reaches down to grip my ass with both hands, and lifts me up, pressing his hard chest into my soft breasts.
We kiss first while AJ repositions his hands under my thighs and spreads my legs. We kiss like lovers. Like friends, too. Maybe. Or maybe I’m imagining that. Doesn’t matter. It’s a very nice kiss. Slow, and tender, and passionate.
AJ chuckles behind me, his lips on my neck. Somehow we’ve maneuvered ourselves into the path of some random spray of water. It drips down my body as Logan fists his cock, pumping it a few times, and then aims it right at my pussy.
He enters me and I moan. The pleasure I get from this is unexpected because I’ve been fucked so hard, and in so many different ways already today.
But again, this is different. It’s not really fucking anymore.
This time it’s more like it used to be for me. Slower, for sure, than when they took me downstairs. Even slower than the way I was fucking AJ a few minutes ago.
Because it’s not me setting the pace this time. It’s not AJ letting me set the pace, either.
It’s Logan’s decision to fuck me slow.
And that is something altogether different than anything else we’ve done today.
AJ props me up, shifting his hands a little so he can play with my ass.
I know what’s coming. Both of them inside me, but not both of them in my pussy like it was downstairs.
Just your classic double penetration.
And yet… it’s not that at all. It’s not the porn I’ve seen my ex watch back when I was still with him. Because that was always more like a gangbang.
It’s the kind when three people just find themselves part of something they don’t understand. It’s the kind that feels like more.
And I’m stupid right now. I understand that. Because this is nothing like that.
I just need to believe it is.
So I do.
It’s that simple.
AJ’s finger is inside me now. Gently massaging the tight muscles that only want to say no. But he knows what he’s doing. And he’s being careful. He knows exactly how to talk all those tight muscles into giving in.
And they do.
They relax and his finger penetrates a little further.
I find myself moaning when that happens. Moaning things like, “Yes,” and, “Do it. Just do it.”
But Logan is still kissing me, so the words might get lost in his mouth. Because AJ doesn’t just do it. He continues to take his time just as Logan begins to thrust just a little harder.
They both have thick, giant cocks. And I think to myself… like, what are the odds of that happening? Million to one? Maybe?
But then again, this day isn’t just any other day. It’s special. And so I talk myself into the luck.
“Look at me,” Logan says, pulling away from our kiss. “Look at me, Yvette. And both of you, stop thinking so hard about this. It’s just fucking, OK? That’s all. Just some really nice fucking.”
Which makes AJ shake his head a little. I can’t see it shake because he’s still kissing and nipping at my neck from behind. But I can feel it.
“Look at me, Yvette,” Logan says again. “Tell me what this is.”
“Fucking,” I whisper.
“Yes.” He smiles, placing a hand alongside my cheek.
Which makes it, once again, feel like something that is a little more than fucking.
But I give up. I have no explanation for this stupid day. I give in.
Logan bends over a little. arching his back and looking down at his cock as he slips it deep, deep inside me, then pulls it almost all the way out.
Nope. Not just fucking. Guys do that a lot. Watching themselves fuck a girl is a turn-on. But it almost always comes with hard, punishing thrusts forward. And this time it doesn’t. He pushes inside me the same agonizingly slow way he pulls out. AJ has moved away from my neck and the tip of his cock is pressing against my now pliant and agreeable asshole.
But I keep my mouth shut. Willing myself not to care. Forcing myself to just feel what they are doing. Lose myself in the moment and let go.
Forget all the bad things that have happened to me.
Forget the life I used to have. Forget everything I’ve lost.
Forget about the love I will never find again and just…
Embrace this one last gift from these two strangers.
AJ reaches out, pulling Logan closer. They kiss like friends. Like lovers.
And I do not think about it. I do not wonder who they are. What they are to each other. Or even why they’re here.
They are here for me.
They are here to give me what I need.
And this is how I accept that gift.
Logan groans as their kiss becomes more passionate, their tongues wild as AJ pushes forward and Logan pushes back. Until AJ’s cock is buried deep in my asshole and they find that rhythm again. They find that perfect, rocking motion that will give me the most pleasure.
Logan growls a little, nipping at AJ’s lip. And things become more intense. I can feel their muscles straining. AJ’s arms, and Logan’s thighs, as he balances me in the perfect position to take them both.
We are close. Even me, I realize, with some surprise. Because I’m not usually one to go all night like this.
So it’s them.
They do this to me.
For me.
I reach down between my legs and begin to play with my clit.
“Yeah,” Logan moans. “You’re gonna come for us first this time, Yvette.”
And it’s dumb. I know it is. It’s dumb to feel… like they care about my feelings. But I let myself live this fantasy with them.
Why not?
I vibrate my hand across my clit so fast the climax begins to build. AJ is grinding on my ass, his hips dipping under and then thrusting up while Logan eases in and out of me like we are the definition of sex.
I come.
It’s not mind-blowing like last time.
It’s quiet and pulsing.
AJ says, “Oh, yeah. Grip my cock with your ass, Yvette.” And it’s the Yvette part that gets me. It’s something as simple as my name.
Logan leans into me, pressing his chest up against my breasts so hard, I feel like I can’t breathe. And AJ pushes back, reaching around Logan to force us into this tight configuration.
“Fuck,” Logan mutters. And I feel him spasm. His legs and arms as well as his cock. His hot semen fills me up inside, joining and mingling with AJ’s from earlier.
AJ lets go of me and both their cocks slip out. I have no strength left so I fall to my knees and immediately turn to face AJ. He’s frantically jerking on his cock, aiming it at my tits, and then white, milky come shoots out and coats my nipples.
Logan drops to the floor, sitting with his legs open and his back pressed up against the wall. He grabs me around my waist and slides me across the slick, tiled floor until my back hits his chest.
And then hugs me. Tight. With his head buried into the crook of my neck.
I don’t know why. I can’t possibly imagine what reason he has to hug me like this, but he does it.
And I like it.
AJ bends down on one knee and wipes the come off my breasts with
one wet hand. Then he reaches for a nearby nozzle and aims the misty spray at me, like he wants to take care of me.
You are so stupid, Yvette.
They are not here to take care of you.
I know that, but the dreamy, passionate haze of sex lingers. And I don’t feel like fighting it.
So I give in to it.
Chapter Twelve - LOGAN
We sit in the shower like that for a few minutes, Yvette and I, my arms wrapped tightly around her.
I’m feeling… thankful.
I almost laugh at that, then chastise myself. She is just a girl we’re fucking, Logan.
Right. Got it.
Gonna kill her in a few hours. By tomorrow night all of this will be behind me. I’ll be on my way back to the city to report in to Damon. Show him proof of the job well done. Pictures of two dead bodies.
End of story.
I look up at AJ and find him washing his hair and I can’t help myself. I smile.
He grins back. Shoots me with his finger. And I’m transported to another day. Another time. Back when we first met and this job was exciting and, though I hate to admit it, sometimes fun too.
AJ turns away and stands under the rain shower, talking to the wall as he rinses his hair.
“What?” I laugh.
“Clothes,” he says, turning to face me. “I wish I had brought clothes. Why didn’t we bring clothes?”
Uh… because we weren’t supposed to be stuck in a blizzard fucking Yvette Nightingale’s brains out tonight?
But I don’t say it.
We both know why we don’t have clothes.
“I might have clothes for you,” Yvette says in a quiet voice.
AJ squints his eyes at her. An expression I know well enough to recognize as suspicion. What the hell is he suspicious about? “You have men’s clothes?” he asks.
Which, I guess, now that I think about it, is weird. Since it’s obvious no men live here with her.
“Lost and found,” she says.
Also makes sense.
“I think someone left a hoodie last week. I could go check for you.”
AJ nods. “OK.” But his suspicion lingers.
Yvette either pretends not to notice or she gives no fucks. Because she unwraps my arms from around her and stands up. AJ steps aside, granting her access to the rain shower, and she steps under to rinse herself off one final time.
I just sit there, watching her, then notice AJ is watching me.
“What?” I say.
He shakes his head.
But I know what that shake means. It means, We gotta talk about something, but not in front of her.
“OK,” I say, reaching up with a hand.
He takes it, pulls me to my feet, and then Yvette opens the shower door, steps out grabbing a towel off a rack, and says, “I’ll get you towels. One second.”
We watch her disappear into the bedroom, tucking the towel up under her arms and around her breasts.
“What?” I ask again.
“Hold on,” he says, eyes locked on the doorway.
Yvette reappears, smiling—looking like a blonde goddess, if I’m being honest—and holds out the towels.
AJ and I take them at the same time, quickly dry ourselves off, then wrap the towels around our waists.
By the time we step back in the bedroom, Yvette is already pulling on a pair of pale yellow leggings. She’s wearing a long, white shirt with long, soft ruffles on the sleeve cuffs at her wrist.
Like the outfit she was wearing earlier today—specifically the shirt that AJ ripped open—it’s very feminine. Almost Victorian. Though that shirt earlier made her look more like a Renaissance princess than a vision in vintage lace.
Which is what she looks like now.
God, something is wrong with me. I don’t think I’ve ever compared a woman to either of those things in my entire like.
“I’ll be right back,” Yvette says. Then she smiles. “The lost and found box is just down in a room behind the bar.”
AJ says nothing. Just stares at her. So I say, “Sure. I’ll go back to my duties in the kitchen.”
Because I just remembered that’s what I was doing before all this sex started up again.
“Oh, I guess I can open the kitchen one more time. I’ll make us something.”
“Cool,” I say. Because AJ is still silent.
She manages one more smile, then disappears.
I wait for the tell-tale sound of an apartment door opening and closing, then turn to AJ and say, “What’s going on?”
He runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up in a very sexy way. Which almost makes me laugh. Because what the fuck is wrong with me?
“So…” he starts. “You know how I went out back to turn the generator on?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. Jesus. Was that just an hour or two ago? Feels like a lifetime. “Thanks for doing that.”
He holds up a finger, like he’s about to start ticking things off. “One. That is some fucking building she’s got out there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, there’s two cars, a car lift. You know the kind you see at a mechanic’s shop? That kind. A whole fucking gym filled with equipment. And not equipment someone like Yvette would use, either. It’s definitely a man’s gym. I almost started doing kicks on the bag, that’s how hot that gym made me.”
I laugh at this. I can’t help it.
“Two,” he says, holding up another finger. “That generator is no joke. It’s a nice fucking setup.”
I shrug. “It lives in the middle of nowhere, twelve thousand feet up in the sky. Kinda typical, I think.”
“Three,” he says, holding up one more finger. “The snowcat and the tractor?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Forgot about that. OK. So what are you saying? A guy lives out there?”
He shakes his head. “No one’s living out there, dude. The heat wasn’t on.”
“So what are you going on about?”
“There was a guy living here, Logan.”
“When?”
“How should I fucking know? I saw the same as you these past two weeks. No dudes. But never mind that, I have one more point to make.”
“OK.”
He holds up a fourth finger. “She was on the terrace? In her underwear?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“She dropped that bottle of pills in the snow. Fentanyl. You know what that is?”
“Fentanyl,” I say. “That’s painkillers, right?”
“Not just any painkiller. It’s end-of-life kind of painkiller. I know because my mom was on that shit when she was dying of cancer.”
“So she’s sick?”
AJ shrugs. “Or the guy who really owns this bar was, and he died.”
I think about this for a second. Kinda makes sense. We never could figure out how Yvette—or Glori, since that’s her real name—ended up with such a sweet deal when she left Damon with absolutely nothing.
“Why are we here?” AJ asks.
“To kill her,” I say.
He laughs. “OK, so um. I’m not killing her. All right? Hear me? I’m not killing her.”
“Dude,” I say, laughing uncomfortably. “You know what Damon will do if we—”
“Shut up for a second. That point,” he says, coming towards me so he can poke his finger into my chest as he talks, “is no longer up for negotiation. We,” he says, stressing the word, “are not killing her. But you need to tell me why the fuck we’re here. And you need to tell me now.”
“We’re here to kill her,” I say again.
“What are we looking for?” he says. “I’m not gonna ask again.”
I hold out my hands, unsure why he’s so pissed off. “I mean… I’m not sure.”
“How could you not be sure?”
“Because Damon just told me to call him when we found her and tell him the situation. So I told him and he said there has to be more. Stay and watch her. So we stayed.”
> “You have no idea why we’re here?”
“You know why we’re here, AJ.”
He lets out a long exhale and turns away from me. But just as quick, he turns back. “Something’s wrong. Something’s off.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno. But something’s not right.”
I want to say… Yeah, no shit. Because I’m here to kill you too.
But of course I don’t say that.
“Why did she have those pills in her hand out on the terrace?”
“I dunno,” I say. “She was drunk. She wanted to take a few?”
AJ laughs. But then something catches his attention. Something in the nearby nightstand.
The journal I found earlier, I realize.
He walks over to it, takes it out of the drawer and opens it up. There’s a loose piece of paper in the middle of the book, which he withdraws and unfolds. Goes silent for a few moments as he reads.
Then he turns back to me, holding the paper up, and says, “Holy fucking shit.”
Chapter Thirteen - AJ
I take a deep breath and hold it, unable to fully comprehend what I’m seeing on this page.
“What?” Logan asks. And when I don’t answer, he says it again. “What, dammit? What’s it say?”
He snatches it from my hand and begins scanning. “Oh, fuck.”
I’ve already opened the journal to the first page. The title says My True Confession and it’s written in a pretty handwritten script. And I’m thinking, OK. Did she kill someone? What did she do?
But then I turn the next page and the handwriting changes to print. To something more blocky and hard. More masculine.
The entry is dated about three and a half years ago. Everything is confusing… until I read the first sentence.
I am Damon Dell’Ariccia, and this is my true confession.
I hold it up to Logan and say, “Jackpot.”
He takes the journal from me and reads the first page, then tosses it on the bed. “That’s not what he was looking for.”
“What do you mean? That has to be it. It’s the only thing we’ve found.”
“It’s not it,” he says. Then he sighs and looks down at the letter in his hand.