15
ELLIE
When the alarm goes off, it feels like some kind of sick joke. Three nights spent having amazing sex have caught up with me.
I wouldn’t say that it’s too much of a good thing as such. It’s more that my college schedule is getting in the way of me having a good time.
And boy, have I been having a good time!
The inside of my thighs feels bruised. My pussy is heavy and sore, and the tips of my nipples are practically raw. My lips won’t stop tingling or smiling.
So this is what awesome sex is like. It doesn’t just make you buzz when it’s happening. It fills you with butterflies and sparkles like tiny fairy lights. I’m practically vibrating with satisfaction. Is that even a thing?
Today is going to be different. There are no secrets between us now. They all know. We’ve all done the deed.
The stupid dare at Dornan’s party and Gabriella’s determination that I break the drought in my love life have resulted in three spectacular nights of ultimate satisfaction. Dornan would probably burst a blood vessel if he knew, and Gabriella and Celine would shatter glass with their squeals.
Me? Well, I’m feeling brave and proud for going through with the dares, and tingly at the prospect of the next one.
Dornan was right. This is the time of my life to live outside my comfort zone. I should do crazy things that I can smile about one day when I’m gray and old and past lusting after men.
In fact, as I outline my eyes with smoky brown shadow and lengthen my lashes with mascara, I realize I haven’t confided in my best friend about any of it. He’s usually the first person I call to discuss my car-crash of a love life. He’s commiserated with me over every terrible sexual experience I’ve ever had, promising that better will come. And now better has come multiple times, and I’ve been keeping it all to myself.
I’m about to dial Dornan’s number when there’s a knock at my bedroom door. “Come in,” I call, waiting to see who it is.
When the door opens, Colby, Micky, and Sebastian gather in the doorway. It’s like a wall of perfect men, a veritable buffet of prime meat. There isn’t an inch of the men currently smiling at me I wouldn’t lick like the most delicious popsicle.
“We’re leaving now,” Colby announces.
“Oh, okay.”
“See you later?” Sebastian is the one to ask, and I wonder if he’s told his brothers about the next dare. Do they all know everything now, or are they still keeping secrets?
“Yeah. Later. Message me.” Stupidly, I blush at the implication of that sentence. I’m asking my stepbrother for a booty-SMS. I’m instructing him to tell me where to meet three men for an afternoon of sex. My panties are already stupidly damp, and I squeeze my thighs together, trying to squash the ache that I know is going to linger, hot and heavy between my legs, all day.
“I will,” Seb says. “Have a great day.”
I don’t imagine the slight flush to his cheeks before he turns to leave. Micky follows, and Colby lingers just long enough to look me over. I get the feeling there is something resting on the tip of his tongue, but for whatever reason, he decides not to say it.
As I’m stuffing the last of my things into my bag, I hear their vehicle leave. I grab my phone, thinking about Dornan again, but I don’t have time to call him and get to class on time. When I arrive at college, I’ll send him a message to meet me for coffee around eleven when I have a free hour, if he can.
Then I start to flap about what I need to take with me later. Maybe some freshening wipes because I won’t want to turn up at the motel after a whole day of running around without cleaning up. And some deodorant and perfume, and some powder so I can touch up my makeup.
My underwear doesn’t really matter because I’ll remove my panties before I arrive, as instructed. My black lace bra is pretty enough, but they’re not going to care about what I’m wearing, and I won’t be wearing anything for long.
I dare you to meet me, Colby, and Micky at Molly’s Motel.
Without a doubt, it’s the most thrilling and heart-pounding dare I’ve ever received.
In the car, my phone rings, making me jump. It’s Celine, who’s in my morning class. “Ellie, please tell me Professor Dorkerson isn’t expecting our assignment today,” she says in a rush before I even say hello.
Professor Derkson, as he’s actually named, is notorious for setting the most convoluted assignments known to man and hitting us with unachievable deadlines.
“It needs to be in tomorrow,” I say, and snicker at Celine’s theatrical sigh of relief.
“I’m so behind,” she moans. “Eddie’s been so horny recently. I swear, since I put on a few extra pounds, he hasn’t been able to get enough of me, and usually, I wouldn’t mind, but I can’t keep up with my work while he’s flipping me through the Kama Sutra.”
“TMI, sweetie,” I laugh, signaling to turn into the parking lot.
“Even a visit from the red fairy last week didn’t put him off. My god, the man’s insatiable.”
“You’re just that gorgeous,” I tell her because it’s the truth. Celine is a goddess with cascading red curls that touch her butt and freckles as pretty as the stars in the night sky. She’s been dating Eddie on and off since she met him as a freshman. Every time she breaks up with him, I believe it’s over forever. She’ll mess around with other guys, and I’ll be convinced she’s moved on, and then suddenly, they’re back together again. It’s the weirdest relationship ever.
“If he doesn’t leave me alone, I’m going to rub my armpits with onions and stuff cheddar into my socks.”
“Don’t forget sardines in your panties,” I laugh, slightly gagging at the thought.
“Men are disgusting,” she scoffs. “He’d probably like that. He’s down there like a shot, even after I’ve done a ninety-minute workout.”
“Oh god,” I gasp, remembering about the wipes I have in my purse and my concerns about freshness.
“Exactly. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Have you tried talking to him, sweetie? Wild idea, but communication seems to be the basis of every successful relationship.”
“I’ve tried talking, but as soon as I mention sex, he’s all over me again. Just the word is like a flame to a tanker of gasoline.” She laughs, but there is a genuine exasperated edge to it, and I start to feel sorry for her.
Would there ever be a time when I didn’t want to have sex? Absolutely. Especially in all the circumstances she’s mentioned. Poor Celine is struggling with just one man, and here I am, considering having sex with three. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell my friend what’s going on in my life, especially after she’s filled me in onhers in such graphic detail.
If anyone is going to hear the juicy details of my sex life and egg me on, it’s Celine. She might only have a body count of one man, but she’s not prudish in any way. And, like Dornan, she’s moaned about my lack of interest in standard college pursuits. If anything, she told me she wants to live vicariously through me. If she can’t sow her wild oats in college, then I should damn well be sowing mine.
“Anyway,” she says. “I’m going to stop talking about Eddie now. He’s in my mouth enough! What’s been going on with you? I heard some wild shit on the grapevine, but I don’t believe it because if it was true, I know you would have called me to dish, wouldn’t you?”
“I’ve been busy,” I say. “And so have you.”
“I would have interrupted sex to talk to you about a closet foursome. What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“The best kind.”
“So, dish. Or I’m going to question you in front of our entire class.”
“Let’s have coffee after class.”
“No, you’re being the worst kind of friend,” Celine moans. “The kind who delays sharing gratification. I’ve always told you how hot your stepbrothers are, and now you have some dirt on them, you’re leaving me in the cold, dark wasteland of not-knowingsville.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” I laugh, sticking the car into park. “I’m not going to walk through campus spilling my guts.”
“It’s the talk of the campus already, my friend. How do you think I found out?”
I slam my car door with too much force. “Seriously, do people have nothing better to do than gossip about me? I’m so boring.”
“It’s not you. It’s those Townsend boys. Anything they do is the subject of the whispering and speculation.”
“I’m glad to hear I’m so popular,” I scoff.
“Popular, now you’re in with the Townsend triplets. Don’t tell Eddie, but I’d pay good money to be the ham in that club sandwich…in another dimension, obs.”
I’m striding toward our lecture hall when I see Celine waving frantically. We both hang up our phones and she tugs me into a fierce hug. “Let’s get in there,” I say before Prof. Dork has an aneurysm."
Throughout the class, I can’t focus. Should I tell Celine what’s happening later? She’s not judgy at all, but I know she won’t keep quiet if she thinks I’m making a mistake.
Once a dare has been given, I don’t want to debate the pros and cons anymore. That’s the beauty of the dare.
“Miss Franklin. Are you with us?” Professor Derkson yells, and I jump from my trancelike state back to reality.
“Yes, Sir,” I say, my hands poised over my laptop. “Sorry.”
He scrunches his face so that his gray caterpillar eyebrows almost obliterate his eyes, but he carries on with whatever he was droning on about before. Celine scribbles ‘Lost in a sex dream’ on the corner of her notepad.
Ugh. This is what I was worried about. Already, real life is creeping in to disturb my dare-inspired fantasy life.
After class, when I’ve packed up my things, Celine links arms with me. “Right. I’m not taking no for an answer. You will tell me what’s gotten you losing concentration in Dorksons class.”
She practically frog-marches me to the cute coffee shop on this side of campus. It has a giant brown coffee bean character outside, grinning with his thumbs up, and inside, it’s all distressed wood and black metal. Industrial chic combined with animation. What’s not to love?
“Two caramel Frappuccino and don’t be stingy with the cream,” Celine says to the guy behind the counter. Max is used to her demanding ways and rolls his eyes theatrically. She pays before I pull out my phone and strides over to our favorite table in the corner, which has been strangely available the last few times we’ve met up.
“While Max is slowly whipping our drinks to perfection, spill.” She rests her head on her hands expectantly.
“It sounds like you already know what happened.” I shrug and pick up a packet of sugar, letting the grains fall back and forth inside the paper envelope.
“What I know is that you had seven minutes in the closet with your stepbrothers and came out looking flushed. Speculation is that you all fucked in there, but I call that bullshit because there’s no way one of those men could finish in seven minutes, let alone three of them.”
“You’re assuming they would have gone one after another,” I say before I realize what I’m insinuating.
“Fuck, yeah. Is that what happened? There are three of them. You have three holes. Was it a centipede situation?”
“Centipede! That doesn’t sound sexy at all.”
“You know what I mean. One joined being with many legs.”
“That is gross and also strangely clever,” I laugh.
“FRAPPUCCINO WITH EXTRA CREAM,” Max yells from the counter. Celine stands and struts to grab our drinks.
“Thank you, Maxy-Waxy,” she croons.
“Please don’t call me that,” he pleads as the customers waiting in the queue snigger.
She places my drink in front of me but doesn’t let go of it. “The Frappuccino isn’t a free coffee, my darling. The one who drinks it must tell all or suffer a curse akin to sleeping beauty.” Her voice lowers at the end like an old-world storyteller foretelling doom.
“I’ll tell you,” I huff, grabbing the drink.
I swear Celine’s eyebrows hit her hairline. She almost misses her chair when she sits; her eyes are so concentrated on me.
“Dornan dared me to play the stupid game.”
“I knew it had to be a dare,” she gasps. “There was no way that sensible Miss Ellie was going to join in something ridiculous like that without being nudged into it.”
“And when I went into the closet, it was so dark I couldn’t see anything through the blindfold.”
“So you didn’t know there were three of them in there?” she whispers conspiratorially.
“Of course, I didn’t know. I mean, who would assume there would be more than one guy in the closet? It never happened in high school.”
“None of us were that kinky in high school,” she says.
“I guess. Anyway, I was going to tell them to keep their hands to themselves, but…” I trail off, not knowing how to articulate what happened. I’d sound ridiculous if I told her they bewitched me with their touch, and even though I realized there were three of them, I let it happen.
“But you let them rub their hands all over you, right? Please tell me you had some freaky fun with those gods you live with.”
“Believe me. They aren’t gods. They’re just normal guys.”
“Now I know they did something to your brain because you have never referred to them as normal guys before. It’s always ‘spawn of Satan’ or ‘those assholes.’”
She’s not wrong. Funny how things can change so quickly. “Yes, I had seven minutes of mind-blowing fun with my stepbrothers,” I whisper. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“YES!” she yells, like the mere thought of it is enough to send her into a sex-frenzy. “You go, girl.”
“We didn’t do the sex thing,” I say. “I mean, they did stuff to me.”
“Stuff…what kind of stuff? Are we talking a finger bang or mouth stuff?” Celine’s voice has gone up a few decibels, and I turn to make sure no one is listening to discover that at least three tables of our peers are staring right at us. It must have been the words finger bang. There’s no pretending that means anything other than it means!
“Can we reduce the volume?”
“Sorry,” she says, whispering and bringing her finger to her lips.
“Mouth stuff,” I whisper.
Leaning back in her chair, Celine fans herself. “Who? Which one did it?”
“Does it matter? They were all there.”
“Watching…that is so hot.”
“There was no watching anything,” I say. “It was as dark as a serial killer’s heart.”
“Oh yeah. But still hot. So who? I bet it was Colby. That man has always looked at you like you’re O-neg, and he’s a vampire.”
“Lovely analogy,” I snort. “No, it was Micky.”
“Really. The dark horse. Was he good? Tell me he was good.”
“Good is an understatement.”
“YES!” Celine fist pumps the air, completely forgetting her promise to be quiet. “Please tell me you’ve been inviting him into your room for repeat sessions ever since. You’re my friend, and I love you, but I’ve considered an intervention over your sex life, honey. It’s been Sahara for too long.”
“Sahara?”
“Yeah, dry as the fucking desert!”
Celine will combust if I tell her what has happened since the closet warm-up. And I want to see that happen. “Listen, you cannot tell a soul,” I say, leaning in until I’m half bent over the rustic wood table, holding my drink so I don’t spill it.
Celine does the same, her wide green eyes frantically searching my face for clues. “Tell me now or we aren’t friends anymore!”
“There’s been three more dares since,” I whisper. “And three nights that were the total opposite of Sahara dry.”
“Monsoon wet?” she whispers, her face deadly serious.
“Monsoon wet,” I nod in agreement.
“Fuck…”
For the first time since Celine and I became friends during our first Professor Dorkson lecture, I see her lost for words. “You really did it?” she asks eventually.
“I did.”
“With all of them.”
“Yep.”
She shakes her head and sighs. “If I was wearing a hat, I’d take it off to you.”
“It’s not me,” I say. “It’s the dares.”
Celine takes a long drink of her sweet coffee concoction and nods. “Your dares are way more fun than the ones I’ve been challenged with in the past.”
“Fun,” I nod.
“And a little dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“The danger of discovery,” she says. “You better hope your parents are sound sleepers.”
“They are.”
“The danger to your heart, too.”
I look up from my coffee to find Celine gazing at me more seriously than she ever has before. Hearts are not things we talk about much. We’re fun friends, and that’s cool. I don’t expect every friend I have to be all things. Celine is awesome to have a good time with. She’s encouraging and cool, and I love her a lot. But serious issues haven’t been a part of our relationship until now.
“They’re just dares,” I say. “The triplets know that. They’re not expecting anything else from me, and I’m not expecting anything else from them.”
“If you say so.” Celine glances at her watch. “Ugh. I’ve got another class to get to.”
“Me too,” I say.
As she stands, she smooths her purple dress and hooks her bag onto her shoulder. “Expectations can be funny things, sweetie. We think we know what we want and what we expect until we realize maybe we were lying to ourselves all along.”
I snag my coffee from the table as her words settle inside me awkwardly. “I’m not lying to myself. Dares are cool, but I’m not looking for anything from them.”
“Other than monsoon-wet sex.”
“Exactly.”
“Mmmm…” Celine doesn’t sound convinced in the slightest. “And what about them?”
“I’m sure more monsoon-wet sex is awesome for them, too.”
“You don’t believe that any of them have deeper feelings for you? I mean, ya’ll live together. That’s a whole extra level of connection.”
“Exactly. They see me in the morning with no makeup and my resting bitch face out in full force. Why would they want more of that?”
“Except they do, don’t they? They’ve seen you at your best and worst and still want more than a weird housemate-faux-sibling relationship.”
“I guess.”
The cool air hits me in the face as Celine opens the door. It’s like a wake-up of sorts. A warning. Dare number five is taking us into entirely new territory, and I’m just striding forward without weighing the implications.
That’s what dares are about for me.
Freedom.
No consequences.
But Celine has sowed a seed of worry. What if my stepbrothers do feel more for me? What if all of Colby’s searing looks, Micky’s soft smiles, and Seb’s humorous jabs are more than just resentment or politeness? What if beneath the sex, there are actual feelings?
I don’t want to hurt them almost as much as I don’t want to hurt myself, but they have to realize that this can’t be anything more than five stupid dares and scratching an itch that’s been driving us all crazy.
They have to.
But do they?