10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Shhh, just let it happen
Blaine
W e’ve been home from the dance recital for mere minutes when Waverly stomps away to her room proceeding to slam her bedroom door. She’s nine. I thought we'd have a few more years before teenage behavior took over.
Fucking excellent. I make eye contact with Eden, both of us sighing. “I’ll talk to her.”
I find her lying face down on her bed in her last dance outfit-a metallic silver bodysuit with tinsel on her arms and waist. The slicked-down bun on top of her head is starting to lean, her blonde curly hair coming loose. Learning long ago that waiting her out works better than asking her questions, I keep my trap shut. When I sit at her desk, I notice she’s put some of her framed pictures face down. Peeking at them, my heart sinks. She’s with Eden in those particular photos.
I’m certain her mom has no idea how deep her problems with Zinnea are becoming; partly because she’s so focused on making sure all the Abbott children acclimate into the family. But in reality, only one is having a problem: Zinnea. Eden said she sees the child she was in her, but I think she’s projecting. The woman I know has always been overly kind, overly accepting of everyone. Though she started to shut more people out during college, she was never mean. Zin has a biting judgy tone when she speaks.
“Dad?” Waverly sits up, taking a deep breath through tears. “I don’t want a sister anymore.”
I wasn’t prepared to hear that. My mouth opens and closes a couple of times before responding, “Oh, sweetheart…Waves, you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Zinnea told me on the way out to the car God doesn’t like showy people. I laughed at her, because she says stuff like that all the time, but then she pinched my arm really hard.” Pulling her sleeve back I can see the reddened mark above her elbow.
I’ve reached my limit now, and I’m pissed. It’s one thing to keep spouting her brainwashed garbage, but now she’s physically hurting others. “That’s not going to be tolerated. I’m so sorry, honey.” After a quick hug with Waverly, I’m stopped from finding Zinnea by Caleb.
“Let Eden handle it.” He shifts to allow the boys to run past, who are following Dodger into the bathroom. Warner is in his arms, grabbing at his ear while asking for animal crackers. “Both the girls need her to mediate.”
On the scale of one to ten in emotional intelligence, I’d say I score a solid six and a half, but my giant best friend may be bypassing me.
Super-agent comes to the rescue, aka Keir, striding past us looking for the culprits of the animals getting out of the pen. Warner sees him, lunging in his direction. Anytime Keir is within eyesight of him, he needs to have his attention. Just like his bio dad. Fuck…I don’t want to let myself dwell on that right now. Not much I can do about it, anyway.
I’ll never be Keir, all broody and serious.
“Careful,” Keir calls out as he catches him mid-wiggle from Caleb’s arm.
Looking up to see Matt come around the corner from the stairs, cradling a sleeping baby in his arms causes my damn brain to stop. Fuuuck. Okay, is dad porn a thing?
Four of Waverly’s fathers made the recital; Hutton is out of town meeting a client. I overheard more than one conversation about us during the show. “Oh, I agree. I’m picky as hell but I’d crawl over broken glass just to look at him.” That was said by one of the mothers when Matt walked toward our seats.
Her friend replied, “Look, I know he’s married, but Christ almighty that man inspires inappropriate thoughts. Hell, they all do. Eden, teach us your ways.”
Mid-turn to look at them, I heard her friend respond, “Riighht, no way is she keeping them all happy. I’m sure we don’t have the real story.”
But it didn’t end there, because the negativity was picked up everywhere. On the walk to pick Waverly up from the staging area, I heard one of the fathers mutter under his breath brushing past me, “Fucking homos.” If Matt hadn’t grabbed my arm shaking his head, I would’ve taken the assault charge by punching him. One of the competition dance coaches couldn’t stop staring at Keir before she could be heard saying, “I don’t get it. He doesn’t look gay. None of them do.” A teenage boy standing with his friends near the entrance to the building cracked under his breath, “The orgy family. That’s a well-used hole.” His eyes tracked Eden, who was covering Zach’s ears.
That’s what life has been like since our neighbor Todd began a campaign to get rid of us. From yelling slurs at us to saying inappropriate things to the kids, and now huge signs pointed our way. We could get a harassment order against him, but Hutton would rather quietly destroy him.
I get it-we are unconventional. My mom is still confused about the relationships we have, even after I tried to dumb it down for her. Matt’s sister says it best-No one is “gay”. We’re all on the spectrum, except Eden, Caleb, and Hutton. Eden is all about us (dick only), Caleb is only into Eden, and Hutton is obsessed with Eden, completely ambivalent to us. My relationship is only physical with Keir…not like any other one he has. I allow myself to be roughly handled, bitten, scratched, hit, choked…I allow it because it exorcises a need he has to rid himself of images of his past and the cases he works on.
But lately…it’s not enough anymore.
Both Matt and I tread carefully with Keir’s sexuality. We’re never sure if he's making the choice to be intimate with us, or if it’s because of the conditioning he had being abused and trafficked. It turns my stomach, even considering it’s a possibility.
With Matt, it’s undoubtedly love-passionate, deep, fulfilling, and gripping. Love. Almost on par with my feelings about our wife. Almost.
She’s still the only one I would fall apart for, lose everything and everyone for. Fuck it, I can say the same for Matt. But Keir makes me frustrated. I want more…I want him to see me as more.
Matt holds his finger to his lips to keep us quiet while we’re discussing the girls. “This goddamn nonsense she keeps spouting is getting old,” I say to Caleb in particular, because he has defended her behavior in the past. The Revivalist cult’s religious doctrine is as strict as the FLDS Holy Brotherhood. He knows the tactics used to mess with their heads. The abuse, the repetition of “rules”, the negative reinforcement.
Dodging Warner’s grabby hands, Keir says, “Therapy isn’t helping. That’s obvious. Eden should be the one to address it.”
I can’t hold my tongue, because …well, I’m an asshole. In a snide voice I say, “Oh, thank you, Keir, for that level-headed, common-sense, critical thinking take. Caleb already said that.”
“Blaine,” Matt scolds. “Was that necessary?”
Is it necessary that Keir give his opinion all the damn time?
Big Gulp interrupts Matt's attempt to shame me into being nice. “Last night she rocked in the corner of the room, repeating, ‘And the smoke of their torment…’ It was pieces of the Book of Revelations scripture. A description of Hell. He drops his head before adding in a somber voice, “She’s stuck in that mindset. Eden will get to the bottom of it. I know she will.”
At what price? I don’t want my wife delving into Zinnea’s psyche only to suffer reliving her past. For the monster haunting her to grow in strength. “Agree to disagree, then? Eden hasn’t had the time to heal…just shy of seven years is not enough time. She’s taking a huge risk trying to help her. We all are. If she’s pinching now, what’s next? Does she strike one of her siblings? What about fire? Hell, for all we know she started the house fire that killed all the Revivalists.”
They all talk at once because of my accusations, but do we know how it started? Now she’s talking about smoke and fire? Jesus Christ. “What in the book of Sega Genesis do we do about an eight-year-old psychopath…if that’s what we’re dealing with.”
“Shhhh,” Matt loudly whispers. “Enough.”
He can certainly command attention. My inner whore sits up, taking notice immediately. Yes siree.
“Eden’s already taking her to see another psychologist Wallen recommended. In the meantime, let’s do our best to keep the girls separated. Can we agree on that at least?”
“Mmm…’spose,” I say noncommittally.
“Yes.” Keir nods
Caleb clears his throat. “I think so…”
Spur of the moment, Keir and Caleb gather the boys together for a trip to the children’s museum. Zinnea is having a visit with Dr. Almari, and Waverly is shopping with her great grandmother. That just leaves Eden, Matt, and me. It’s a rare occurrence. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling pent-up sexual energy like mad.
But Matt is pacing his fine ass around the yard on his phone.
Eden is washing clothes.
I can fix that. With a smirk forming I grab the clothes hamper from the room I use so sparingly there is only a pair of sweatpants, a couple pairs of underwear, and a towel in it.
Whistling the theme of Mission Impossible, I join Ed in the laundry room located off a short hallway from the kitchen. She’s sitting cross-legged on a stool, looking out the window with an open book in her lap. “Hey, beautiful. I came to help.” …you out of your clothes.
My mission, should I accept it-which I fucking do-is to get both her and Matt horny. What does it say about me that the prospect is overriding any sense of responsibility right now?
I like last-minute plans.
Like the time I raw dogged a trip to NYC as a teenager. No Broadway plays, didn’t try street meat, never found love in Central Park. Just hopped in a cab, popping Xanax while seeing the sites out a dirty taxi window and the fog of my high.
Jesus…Unbidden romanticized thoughts about using keep popping up. I don’t fucking like it.
Arching up in a stretch, Eden looks over her shoulder at me. “Help? Nah, I’m spacing out in here more than anything else. Just finishing up a load of towels.”
My body never fails to react to her, that slow reach up and the sleepy recline causing a rush of blood straight to my cock. “Oh, chores?” My eyes travel over her as I bite my lower lip. “There are better ways to spend the next hour or two.”
I have my work cut out for me, since the smile I get back is weak and distracted. She’s used to me teasing her. I don’t think she knows I mean it. She’s dressed in a flannel covering a plain white T-shirt, a pair of black joggers, and fluffy socks. Every damn piece of clothing is coming off.
Singing nonsense lyrics to familiar tunes to myself, I hear her laugh. “I’m just going to throw these in.” Dumping the articles of clothing from my hamper, I then take off my gray sweatpants I had put on when we returned from the recital and toss them in the washer. “These, too.” Already shirtless, I have my back to Eden while I stand in front of the washer naked.
Which is my favorite when I’m in her presence.
“Hmm, this feels like an invitation,” she says through a laugh. “Plus, you just put a pair of black boxer briefs in with a light pair of sweatpants. Okay, move please.” She lightly pushes me aside. “And a pair of red underwear. B…” She sighs.
This just won’t do. “Baby...Ed…” I brush the hair falling from her messy bun away from her neck, giving her a light kiss on a pulse point. “Leave the fucking laundry alone. Pay attention to me.”
She rests a hand on one of my ass cheeks. “I see you.” The sultry twist to her voice tickles my brain. “I always do, and as for attention?” I suck in a breath as her hand slides over my hip bone inching closer to my cock. “You don’t need to ask for it. You never do.”
But I’m not looking for a quick release.
No. This is about winding her up.
Drawing Matt to us.
Stepping out of reach, I walk closer to the window facing the backyard, where Matt is still engrossed in his phone. “Ed, I want you to get rid of those clothes.”
My sexy wife has no inhibitions when it comes to showing her body. She doesn’t shy away from our eyes on her…or exploring every naked inch. Clothes fall away, and I catalog the marks. They stir a primal itch inside me: a hickey on her upper thigh (me), a thumbprint bruise on the side of her breast (Keir), a bruise with a couple teeth imprints (Keir), a red mark on her left hip (me). I reach out to run a hand under her breast. “There’ll never be enough words to tell you how much I want you…need you…crave you…”
Those stormy blue eyes move over me, her mouth falling open as my chest rises with short pants. I could take her right now…wrap her around my body, fill her, breathe her in completely. But that’s not happening…not yet.
My cock is at full mast, but other than brushing it with my arm when I reach for her, I’m not laying a finger on it. Keeping Eden in view, I move to stand in the window where the drapes are wide open. Other than a camera mounted by Hutton outside on the porch, no one outside our yard can see me. Not that it would stop me. Being watched is its own turn-on.
If Matt looks toward the house, he’ll see me standing naked in the window looking at him, my dick resting on the windowsill. Eden moves in my periphery. “What are you up to, B?”
“He’s been distracted lately, huh? Staying in his room…” I lean my hands on the upper part of the window, making my cock drag back on the windowsill. The pressure gives me a tickle in the back of my throat. A breeze could make me cave. “Should we give him a show?”
Opening the window, I call out, “Agent Scholl!” He whips around toward the house. It’s a still day in the high sixties, but a shot of heat flashes through my body as he stalks toward the back door while pocketing his phone.
“Close the window, Blaine. Now.”
Eden giggles next to me as she moves in front of me. “I think we need the airflow,” she calls in a taunt.
He picks up the pace. When we hear the back door shut, I nip at Eden’s earlobe while whispering, “Got him.”
Matt closes the door to the laundry room behind him. “It’s not safe to stand naked in front of a window. We don’t know who could be around.” I can’t take him seriously when he’s pulling his shirt off. Fuck my life, that man has the perfect trail leading to the prize he’s packing.
“Uh-huh. Sure. Some of Wes’s ninjas?” Eden folds her arms under her breasts, causing them to spill over. I can’t help myself. Leaning over, I swipe my tongue across a nipple. “Mmmm…B, more of that please.”
My heart is my throat, when Matt frees his cock. The bounce as he moves has my gaze pinned on him. Come here you beautiful son of a bitch . Once he’s within reach, I put a hand against his chest to stop him.
Call it edging…or inspired torture. I leave both my lovers standing near the cracked window. Returning to the washer, I lean back against it with my ass resting lightly on the edge. My cock pulses in my hand as I stroke from base to tip. Once…causing Matt to pay closer attention. Twice…Eden’s small moan lights me up. I pleasure myself in front of them, stopping them both more than once as they try to get closer. A foot to Matt’s chest, a hand grabbing Eden’s waist.
“Fuuuck…oh, fuck, fuck…” Spurts of cum shoot out hitting my leg and Matt’s ass since he’s moved close again.
Did it abate that surge of neediness I was feeling? Fuck no. If anything, my desire to make love to Eden and Matt is only stoked hotter. But my mission was to start it, and they can finish it…now, or…
“Meet me in the gym?” I’m pulling a pair of washed shorts from a stack on the nearby counter. “Quick.”
Our home gym is nothing short of outstanding. Hutton filled it with all the latest equipment when he built his addition. I’m sprinting down the hallway laughing to myself when I hear them both behind me, cursing. “You little shit,” Matt says as he closes the gap in just his underwear. Eden is next to him in her flannel shirt and nothing else.
I couldn’t be fucking happier.
“You started this, and you’re finishing it,” Matt demands gruffly. His dick is still hard, and that look in his eyes is full of hunger
Fucking yes.
I’ll own it.
Sure.
If they want to think I’m responsible for getting them hot and bothered before we’re even in the gym it makes no fucking difference to me.
The end result is the same. Absolute motherfucking ecstasy.
Winking back at Eden, I can’t help delighting in her flushed face. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Movement is flurried. The three of us move as one. “Give me that dick,” I bite out before grabbing Matt.
“Slower, slower…oh my god.” Matt reaches out, grabbing the equipment next to him. “I want you looking up at me, sucking me off.” His hand brushes through my hair before he catches my lip in his. “Suck. Me. Off.”
Eden kisses my shoulder blade. “You heard him. Take a knee, babe.” As I do just that, she leans over, taking Matt’s face with one hand and giving him a kiss that causes him to stumble forward slightly.
Off the charts chemistry. This is my nirvana.
Matt looks down at me massaging his thick cock with my tongue as I move him in and out of my mouth. My lids are lowered as I look up at him. One of my hands moves to work my own cock. Eden breaks the kiss with Matt, breathless. “I want you both. This waiting is driving me crazy.”
Matt eases himself away from my mouth. “Come here, B.” I don’t need any encouragement to follow his every move. “Eden, honey, over here.” He sits at a lat pulldown machine, readjusting his balls before hooking his finger toward me. “Climb on.”
“Wait…let me get you ready,” Eden purrs next to me. She pushes me back toward Matt so I’m sitting in front of him. Smiling, she kneels in front of me. Using some of the cum from my release she rubs my tip, her tongue and spit wetting me further.
She spits into her hand before telling me to lean forward, then she works two fingers into my puckered hole. Matt does the same. Both take turns getting me ready to take him. “Enough…I need to feel you inside me. Fucking stop, I said.” I shove Matt’s hand away as I lower myself onto him, using a hand on the pulldown bar.
My exquisite fucking wife watches us as she stands in front of me fingering herself. But I want to be the cause of her orgasm. “Nope. No way. Get the fuck over here, Ed.”
I help her sit on my lap, legs wrapped around us, shifting her forward so I’m filling her. Movement is jerky to start, but then we get a rhythm. Matt’s groans make me feel fucking feral, combined with the sweet huffs of air and noises from Eden. I buck back against Matt until he takes over with his hands around my waist under Eden’s thighs. “Stop trying to top from the bottom, you fucking troublemaker.”
I look back at him with half a smile. “Why? You like it when I’m acting up.”
He fucking does.
My motherfucking queen goes first, shouting, “Yes, I want every last drop. Yes…” Her spasms bring on the waves of euphoria. Matt’s thrusts go harder, and he’s spent inside me in seconds. We’re clinging to each other, a sticky wasted mess, when I say, “I just want you both to know I have an unhealthy obsession with your damn fine asses. That’s all.”
There is laughter as we slip off one another, but I wasn’t joking. I’ve never had a doubt that we’re endgame. My life, my love is theirs for whatever time we have on this earth. Eden Bradford and Matt Scholl…fuck, maybe even Keir Marcus…my body, my heart, my soul are at their disposal.